You wouldn't be crazy to think that bad behavior on flights is the new norm these days. And while there have been reports of everything from post-Brexit air rage to a dispute over a $12 blanket, one particularly common culprit causing havoc in the skies is the reclining airline seat—or more precisely, the person choosing to suddenly catapult their seat into your knees. Now, there's proof that charging us for the privilege of kicking back a few inches could be a way of avoiding tension between passengers. But is it worth it? In this latest debate, editors hash it out over whether opting to recline is a given, or worth shelling out a few extra bucks for.

Reclining is a right.

Really, is nothing sacred? The ability to recline my seat back ever so slightly—a paltry six inches, in the best case—seems the last remaining vestige of air travel dignity (and, no, it doesn’t matter whether we’re talking about a 2-hour flight or a 12-hour one). To commodify such a small pleasure would equate to no less than a middle finger to the millions of people who fly everyday. It’s not enough that passengers, especially those sardined into economy seats, are practically forced to maneuver their legs into pretzel-like configurations from lack of pitch space, but the increasing trend toward budget flights means that in exchange for a $300 hop across the ocean, you can now expect to shell out for everything from an aisle seat to a glass of water. The least airlines can do is make it a little easier for travelers to pass a less-than-comfortable hurtle through the air in comfort, no matter how meager. —Betsy Blumenthal

When enduring a long-haul flight in 2017, it’s hard not to convince yourself that the airline almost enjoys making you suffer. Once you’ve navigated the various trials and indignities of airport security the idea of a nice drink and a comfortable seat at the end of it is now little more than a pipe dream: More often than not, you have to pay for your meal (if you’ve been offered one at all); a blanket to shield you from the cabin’s icy climes is never guaranteed; plus, enduring the small amount of legroom available in coach can be tantamount to unbearable. And this is just what to expect if the flight goes without a hitch. So no, to be charged to recline my seat a mere few inches is borderline insulting, not to mention an absolute rip-off (depending on the airline, you may have already paid for the seat itself, too). A $12 price tag to recline a seat could very well help avoid arguments over precious in-flight real estate, but isn’t there also value in just turning to the person behind you and asking if they mind you leaning back for a little while? After all, I still possess the naive belief that we all have the potential to somewhat get along—even if it is at 30,000 feet. —Lale Arikoglu

You get what you pay for.

Nowhere in his Hierarchy of Needs does Maslow mention "being comfy in your airplane seat," so while enough passengers see reclining as a right of air travel, there are no rights of airline travel; they're privileges afforded on a mode of transport that's younger than both the vacuum cleaner and air conditioning. Not to get all Ayn Rand on you, but if you go to a restaurant, and your breakfast doesn't come with bacon, and you really want bacon, you order it for a few bucks extra. For airlines, which deal in volume, that $5, or whatever trivial sum, times thousands of flights translates to millions of dollars. If you can live without reclining (you can), you don't pay for it. If you can't, you pay for it.

While the general environment around flying has devolved over the years, one point remains true: people love cheap. If they didn't, no one would fly Spirit. But America's worst-rated airline remains in business, and until people stop wanting what appears cheapest in droves, that won't change. Nobody makes you pay $20 for a flight that doesn't include a carry-on. That's a choice. Now the consumer is simply aware of the many features previously taken for granted in commercial flight. Everything is a commodity; that's the American way. You don't have to pay for a seat that doesn't let you recline. But if any airline charges that fee, well, you're free to spend your money elsewhere—or to just keep complaining, despite willfully skimping on something you value. —Ryan Craggs

Let me get something out of the way first: my position here comes with a significant footnote. If I’m on a 14-hour trek across the Pacific in economy class, I fully expect reclining to be within my included-in-the-ticket rights, just as free in-flight entertainment and a glass of wine (or four of them) are. But, in the world of budget travel and on the short regional puddle-jumps on board planes that are subject to airlines’ never-ending quest to add more seats to rows, then, and only then, for the comfort of everyone, yes: charge me a fiver to be able to recline my seat. I, just like many others who are put through the new normal of freemium everything, probably won’t do it, much in the way I’ll rarely drop $8 for a Bud on a domestic flight. In the end, everyone will be a little more comfortable in what is an inevitably hellish experience to begin with. That six-inch recline isn’t suddenly going to turn your tiny seat into the lap of luxury anyway, and if you think it is, then go ahead and pay up. Just remember, we’re all in this together. —Sebastian Modak